Bloody
by Wind Spark
Summary: It wasn't love the Cullens could ever understand, but it was love nonetheless. James/Victoria


**~ Bloody ~**

* * *

"_Kill me," she whispered, with his hands around her throat, "as painfully as possible."_

"_Why," he wondered aloud, startled, and she glared at him, hate burning in her eyes._

"_Because," she spat, and blood dripped from her mouth, and he thought that she was slightly insane._

"_I want to remember what it feels like to die."_

He didn't kill her. Instead he made another monster to share the nights with.

Why? Because he was lonely, and she was beautiful, and terrible, and covered in blood.

He simply couldn't resist her.

So she survives, as it were, and he shows her just how wonderful it can be to live with blood on your hands and in your skin and in your eyes, and they bathed in red and crimson.

Somehow, naturally, with the blood of a first kill on their lips, they kiss.

It is strange.

It is wonderful.

It feels like being alive again.

To hell with that, being alive never felt this damn good.

They continue to live, in red days and nights, and they ignore the emptiness that fills their hearts during the spaces in between.

Immortality is tiresome, and without her, he would have ended it soon anyways.

Now, they promise to somehow die together, covered in blood.

_Wouldn't it be glorious_, she murmurs to him in the dark, caressing up and down his body, and he steals rough kisses and growls agreement.

But they don't. They want it to end, but they are still human, somewhere inside.

They are afraid to die.

She killed her little brother. She forgot his face long ago, but she never really forgot _him_. They were swimming and she was supposed to watch him, and she went to talk to a friend for a moment, and when she got back he was gone. She stared at the black water for a long time, and thought that it looked red.

They found the body the next day, but she never saw it, and there was never any blood.

_So why does she constantly see red on her hands when she thinks of him?_

She _wants _to die, but she is afraid, and he has always an imperfect, cowardly beast, but she doesn't care, because she is one too, and they promise to one day kill each other and set themselves free from this beautiful never-ending hell.

They promise.

It would be beautiful, glorious even, because their kind do not bleed, but she knows that if she snapped his neck and buried him in fire, she would see his blood on her hands, and it would be beautiful.

The Cullens throw a wrench into her plans.

She thinks they're idiots. Just because they waltz around acting like they're better, like they're still human, like they're something special, doesn't mean they are. Their souls have been damned along with hers, and there's nothing either of them can do about it.

And they won't even enjoy the power. They won't enjoy the blood.

So she enjoys it for both of them, and drives herself crazy on the blood, and forgets that she is a soulless monster and enjoys herself.

In this life she is a god with blood on her hands, and she fucking loves it.

Is it so wrong, to love being stronger than all the little humans below her? Is it so wrong to love killing, and to love being covered in beautiful, glorious red? Is it so wrong to be a monster, and love?

She is a monster, and she loves the blood, and she loves.

She loves James.

So when the Cullens kill him, she can be forgiven for losing it.

Because they made a promise, in a dark forest when the night was choking and they were lonely and weary and lost.

They _promised_.

They promised to end it together, in blood, and the Cullens took that from her, took _him _from her.

She is furious, and she wants it, wants their blood, wants the blood of everyone on her hands, because it hurts too much without him, and the blood is the only thing that can make it better.

She promises.

They will die, she promises, for taking him from her, his comfort and his blood and his life.

Those _bastards, _she thinks, and the blood on her face looks like tears.

She would have.

When she was strong enough, brave enough, she would have snapped his neck.

She would have buried him in fire.

And then she would have seen the blood on her hands, and followed him.

She would have sent him on his way with a kiss.

* * *

Hey! I posted two stories in two days! Record! Whoot!

Lord, that's exciting.

Yup, it's short, but there it is. My little Twilight *_gag_* fic.

That entire series is filled with unintelligent, two dimensional Mary Sues, but I thought James and Victoria had some potential, and I actually have a soft spot for Alice and Jasper.

Don't tell anyone.

I'm going to go write more Royai now! Yays!

Ooooh, I'm on a sugar high.


End file.
